


Worth The Pain

by IsobelSionisFalcone



Series: Northur Snapshots [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Arthur's coat, F/M, Insomnia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 17:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12063942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsobelSionisFalcone/pseuds/IsobelSionisFalcone
Summary: Nora thinks back on some of her experiences with the Brotherhood.





	Worth The Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Some fluffy Arthur for y'all.

Nora's fingers paw idly at the bedclothes, eyes wide open as she stares both at her hand and through it. Her sight blurs with the inability to tear her gaze from her left thumb nail, but she's not thinking clearly enough to blink. At the back of her mind, the scuffle she and Danse had had with a group of raiders plays like a pre-war film, their pain-twisted faces flashing across her distorted vision. Spools of suffering that she cannot escape burn holes into her irises and mind and she remembers one particular shot she took with her lazer rifle.

A thin and scraggy woman, probably younger than herself with scraps of raider gear haphazardly strapped to her chest and limbs, dissolving to ashes at Nora's feet. She hadn't thought much of it in the heat of battle under the safety of the Paladin's careful watch, but attempting to sleep leaves too much room to dwell on her experiences. She realises that this young woman, hyperactive with adrenaline and fear, shouting futile obscenities as she tried to get a shot on target with violently shaking hands, was no different from the woman who had crawled out of vault one-eleven three months ago. Afraid, inexperienced, desperate. Out of her comfort zone, Nora had somehow managed to survive. The raider girl had not been so fortunate.

A soft sigh from Arthur's sleeping form brings her crashing back to reality. The room comes into focus, suddenly bigger and brighter than before, and the eerie rumbling of a rad storm echoes in the dark. She intakes breath sharply at this interruption, partially because it made her jump, but also because she remembers that Arthur is next to her, practically unconscious with exhaustion, but there all the same. His breathing is comforting, a reminder that she is not alone.

Nora thinks back to the first night she spent in her old home amongst the shattered, bombed-out remnants of a happy family life. As she'd lay on the cold, hard floor next to Shaun's crib, the tears rolling down her cheeks, the only sound she'd heard was the clock. A monotonous tick-tick-tick that was horribly magnified without Nate's snoring to disguise it. She'd suddenly felt so small and insignificant that she could have ended it all, taken up her pistol and dug the muzzle into her temple, finger curled around the trigger, but as far as she'd been concerned, Shaun was still out there. A boy needs his mother and she continues that search, even now when her responsibilities as a Brotherhood Knight and the General of the Minutemen keep her thoroughly engaged. For his sake does she continue to clutch at her old life, hoping that the happiness and fullness she used to feel will someday be restored.

She's not unhappy. Especially since she's found a best friend in Scribe Haylen, a confidante in Paladin Danse and a lover in Elder Maxson and all of those things have formed new puzzle pieces to replace some of the old ones she'd been missing, but there's still a hole where her baby boy should be. It gives her a reason to keep fighting, no matter how many of these sleepless, guilt ridden nights she has.

Slipping off the mattress and arching her back to ease out the stiffness, she stands and says; "I'm borrowing your coat," to which Arthur's response is little more than a gruff grunt. She picks up his heavy battle coat from the end of the bed and holds it by the collar, letting the carefully folded garment unravel before sliding her arms through the sleeves. The hem touches the floor when she wears it and it smells just like him, a mix of his metallic cologne and his earthy, masculine scent. Perfection itself.

As Nora steps over his flight suit, a sense of satisfaction washes over her. Arthur letting her wear his coat is the equivalent of the very pinnacle of earned trust. He always folds his coat whenever he takes it off. Never once has he dropped it carelessly to the floor like he does with his suit, gloves and boots. It's a symbol of his status as well as his personality, tough and leathery on the outside, soft and fur-lined on the inside.

She draws it closed around her bare chest, feet padding against the cold floor as she walks the short distance to his office. Sitting in front of the large floor to ceiling window that sprawls the entire span of the wall, Nora presses her forehead against the glass. It's cool against her hot skin, soothing as she gazes out at Fort Strong. It's barely visible through the thick, green mist, but she can just about see the outline of the ruined stone walls, angular shapes that jut out from the sea of airborne radiation.

Unlike most places, Fort Strong makes Nora feel empowered. It holds the special memory of the first time she felt part of a team, protected and safe even though the cracking of guns and the whirring of the Vertibird's engines nearly deafened her. Taking down the Behemoth with the mounted minigun was a truly exciting experience she'll never forget. The rush of pride and elation was like nothing she'd ever felt before. In her old life, leaping from a Vertibird in suit of power armour, and managing to kill several Supermutants with the impact, was something she would never have dreamt of doing. Danse had praised her for it before the pair proceeded to take out any that remained.

She'd had a case of verbal diarrhoea on the way back to the Prydwen. Danse had smiled warmly, perhaps glad that she'd derived some form of enjoyment from the battle after so many months of tortured, lonely misery. She'd reported to Cade with a few cuts and bruises, just as a precaution, but whilst she sat on the examination table, still prattling on, Arthur had come to personally congratulate her on a job well done.

That had been only a week into their relationship. They've come a long way since the awkward flirtation and fierce blushes. It's with no regret that Nora can say she loves him wholeheartedly. He can be a little stern at times and is most definitely stubborn, but in this nuclear wasteland where she feels like an alien, a stranger and an outsider, he's given her a place to belong, literally as well as emotionally.

"What are you doing up?"

Nora turns, the collar of the coat that she's upturned for warmth obscuring most of her view, to regard Arthur with a smile. He's only wearing his boxers, but she can still admire his muscular body, thick and built pretty much everywhere.

"I couldn't sleep," she replies and he gives her a look of sympathetic understanding.

Arthur crosses the room and sits behind her, his legs either side of Nora's and reaches into his coat pocket to pull out out one of of her hair ribbons. She'd dropped it near the sink in her haste to shower away the day's dirt, grime and feral blood. He'd picked it up, ran his fingers over the smooth material, and kept it safe for her, feeling a little more security in carrying a sweet-smelling piece of her with him.

Wordlessly, he runs his large hands through her hair, combing it back and she leans into his embrace. Nora's always loved it when he plays with her hair. It relaxes her in a way that nothing else ever has. He massages her scalp soothingly and she moans, his fingers moving from her crown down to her ears, then to the back of her neck in a gentle, affectionate pick-me-up. Only after she sighs with bliss does he begin to plait her long, silky hair. Arthur is possessive of her, but at moments such as these, she's reminded that she's more than just a sex object. She's someone to provide him with warmth and comfort that he's never really had, someone to talk to and a person with whom he can be Arthur, instead of Elder Maxson.

It takes him only minutes now that he's practiced to finish, tieing the black ribbon in a bow and curling his arms around her slim waist.

"Did you see Cade about the episode you had last night?" He asks, his voice muffled in her neck.

She'd had a rather frightening hour in the early morning in which she'd felt nauseated and couldn't stop trembling. Arthur had nearly carried her to the medical bay in his worry, but she'd insisted it would pass. Eventually, it did, although he'd made her promise to mention it to the Captain.

"Yes, I did," she chuckles.

"And?"

"Sleep deprivation. He told me to notify him if it gets worse, but he's not entirely keen on giving me anything for it if I don't need it, given my reaction to Med-Ex," Nora explains. She's always been sensitive to medication. The strong painkiller had numbed her entire body last time she'd taken it.

Arthur begins to suckle the shell of her ear and she moans lightly. He takes the lobe into his mouth, too before nuzzling just behind it. "What were you thinking about before?"

She pauses, looking out at the fort again, the images of battle exploding behind her eyes before she says; "The faces of those I kill haunt me. I've never been a religious woman, but sometimes, I think we have no right to play God like that. That's what got the world into this wretched, unhappy mess in the first place..." Arthur lays a hand on her knee and she places her own on top, linking their fingers together. "But then I think about how my life has changed since I joined the Brotherhood. Whether Danse knows it or not, he's turned me into a dedicated soldier." She chuckles and rests her head back on his chest. "Yes, the world is a horrible and cruel place, but it's one that's got you. You're all I need. You and everybody else here, who've become my family. Even when I see raider's heads blown clean off in my nightmares, I know that joining the Brotherhood was the best decision I've ever made."

There's a silence as he contemplates her moral dilemma, but it's somewhat comfortable. They don't always need words to show an understanding of one another.

"Making war on one's own people is never an easy decision..." he begins carefully. "Unfortunately, it's sometimes necessary to protect the Commonwealth."

Nora nods soberly and Arthur can see the reflection of her smile in the glass. They sit like that for a little while longer, watching the sickly clouds roll by, occasionally split by the cracks of fork lightening, glad they're protected by the steel walls. Eventually, he picks her up and carries her back to bed, letting her stay wrapped up in his battle coat. He likes to let her mutfruit soap and natural sweet blossom scent imbed in the fur lining, so he is reminded of Nora with every breath he takes.


End file.
